


Caricature of Intimacy

by servecobwebheadaches



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Ryden, Rydon, Short, ryhawk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 06:09:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4380197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/servecobwebheadaches/pseuds/servecobwebheadaches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First impressions make an impact, especially when it's your band getting signed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caricature of Intimacy

"You’re not leaving the band,” Ryan said, glaring at Brendon. “No fucking way.”

“Ryan, I need to do this,” Brendon argued. “I’ve got to have a backup in case the whole music thing doesn’t work out.”

“And you choose to go to beauty school?"

“It’s cosmetology. It’s something I’m passionate about,” Brendon corrected.

“And you’re not passionate about music? That doesn’t sound right.”

“I’d be doing recording school on the side.”

Ryan took a deep breath. “You’ve got to be kidding me right now. You’re a singer. You’re my singer. Don’t you see it? ‘Brendon Urie, lead singer of Panic! At The Disco...’ We’ve got something good going.”

“I’ll come back when I’m done with school. I’ll be able to have more of a commitment,” Brendon decided. It wasn’t enough for Ryan.

“Just don’t go at all.”

“I have nothing making me stay,” Brendon combated, and Ryan felt hurt enough to stare at Brendon in silence before pulling himself together.

“Yes, you do. I didn’t want to tell anyone about this yet, but . . .” He bit his lip. “I got in touch with Pete Wentz over the internet.”

“You—What? Pete Wentz?” Brendon said.

“Yeah, yeah, but don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“Okay, sure. What did he say?”

“Uh, so, you know how we read the other day that he was starting his own label?” Brendon stared at him, wide-eyed. “He’s considering . . . us, as his first artist.”

“What else?” Brendon pressed.

“He’s going to fly out here to see us.”

“This is insane! When is he coming?”

“We don’t know. Nothing’s for sure yet.”

Brendon shook his head. “We’ve got to do something before he gets here.”

“Like what? We know our songs,” Ryan said.

“We have an impression to make. We’ve got to change our look,” Brendon said.

After dragging Ryan out of the apartment, Brendon brought him to the grocery store, where they stood in the makeup aisle. Ryan stood still through Brendon holding different sticks of eyeliner under his eyes, trying to figure out the perfect shade. “I’ll have to teach you how to do this,” Brendon said. “You’re lucky I know my shit.”

“See, now you can be a cosmetologist and be in the band.”

“Fair deal,” Brendon said.

“You’re not still thinking about leaving, are you?”

“No way. You’re about to get us signed by Pete Wentz. I wouldn’t leave you guys.”

“Good,” Ryan breathed. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

They left the store with multiple makeup and hair products. “This is going to be so much fun,” Brendon said with a mischievous smile.

In their shared apartment, Brendon had Ryan pull a chair into the kitchen. His back faced the sink, allowing Brendon to wash his hair. “This isn’t awkward at all,” Ryan muttered as Brendon ran his fingers through his hair.

“You’ll be thanking me when this is done,” Brendon smirked.

“I trust you.”

“Wow, you’re hair is long when it’s straight,” Brendon observed. “It’s really soft, too.” He slowly started making small cuts to Ryan’s hair, shifting chunks, parting it. “Alright, do you want to see it?” He asked. Ryan nodded, and they walked to the bathroom.

“Whoa,” Ryan said, upon seeing his reflection, “you’re good at this hair-styling thing.”

“Thank you. What should we call this? I sorta just made it up as I went along.”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s not a mohawk, because that’s all the way across the head, and it’s not emo, because then it wouldn’t have all this sticking up back here . . . I don’t think this would’ve looked good on anyone but you, Ryan. It’s just a Ryan Ross-esque style,” Brendon explained.

“It’s ‘the Ryhawk,’” Ryan joked, and Brendon smiled.

“The Ryhawk,” Brendon repeated. “I like it.” He pushed Ryan around and had him sit on the bathroom counter. “Now for the eyeliner.”

**Author's Note:**

> They didn't actually get together...sorry? Just kinda cute. Title snagged from Build God, Then We'll Talk.


End file.
